


Our Sacrifices

by Raff94



Series: Sacrifices [1]
Category: The Adventures of Jimmy Neutron: Boy Genius
Genre: Angst and Romance, Drama & Romance, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-19 05:01:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,214
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29869539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raff94/pseuds/Raff94
Summary: Tragedy has struck our main characters. They've all gone their separate ways. However, Cindy Vortex returns to Retroville - seeking closure. She instead finds herself in a web, pulled by the person she least expected. Will feature two POVs.
Relationships: Jimmy Neutron & Cindy Vortex, Jimmy Neutron/Cindy Vortex
Series: Sacrifices [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2196039





	1. Cindy I

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys,
> 
> Here's my second ever fic and my first attempt at a long-running series. I'll do my best to keep this going until its conclusion. But, as of right now, I only have until Chapter 5 all planned out. The rest of the story is still in debate, with the exception of the ending I've decided to give it. This is again an attempt at rekindling a childhood interest in writing. This time, I've chosen a show I recently re-watched and find to be very good still! I hope you enjoy and all reviews are appreciated!

A soft, cool breeze blows past my hair, making it go over my eyes. I grab those pesky loose locks and put them behind my ear with a sigh. I take out my phone. It has been 15 minutes. I’ve been sitting here in this park, in this city that I haven’t been to in years. And instead of going over the places I used to frequent so often and remembering the good old days, I’m waiting for someone. Well, that is, if that someone actually _does_ come, and this isn’t come kind of set-up. I grab my purse and, for what seems like the 20th time today, I take out a brown envelope – inside of which is a note. I read it to myself again, making sure I have it right.

_On the 14 th of May at 7pm, come to Retroville park alone. You will not be harmed; I am someone you know._

I make sure to go over and double check that I’ve replaced the seemingly random bits of dots and lines correctly; and that the corresponding result of jumbled letters have all been shifted two spots accordingly. Everything fits, I confirm once again. I smile. A relatively simple code to crack a relatively simple message. Whoever made this either didn’t think much of my intellect or just couldn’t do better than this.

Still, the contents of this message are quite ominous. Being here today, and alone, is just asking for trouble. No sane person would ever consider it, and I certainly am no fool. I remember I had been just about ready to ignore it until I cracked the last sentence. Five words only. A small insignificant phrase. Yet, one that held a stronger grip on me than any chokehold I was put upon in Judo practice.

_I know what happened to him._

It’s been 3 months since I received this envelope in my doorstep, and I haven’t been able to sleep well since. I’ve been waiting for this day, and I can’t leave without an answer. Maybe this can finally bring me the closure I’ve so desperately sought since he…

A shadow passes by me while I was deep in thought and I instinctively reach into my purse again. I don’t rummage long until I feel that familiar cold metal hinge, and I can’t help the small amount of relief it gives me. Yet, that doesn’t stop a bead of sweat to roll down my forehead as he stops, just a few feet from my bench. _This is it_ , I tell myself. _Calm yourself, Cinthia. He’s right in front of you. I have a gun._ _In case this goes sour, I can still easily subdue him. I don’t have a black belt in two martial arts for nothing._ I slowly shift my body to face his and get a feel for the pepper spray in my pocket. That’s plan C, if all else fails. I should be pretty confident, but the fact that he’s just standing there with his back to me is a little off-putting. I take this time to examine what I can.

Definitely a man. Not a large build yet seems to be in shape. Slightly above average height – around 5’11. He’s wearing a gray hoodie, blue jeans and white running shoes. Can’t distinguish skin color as both hands are in his jacket pockets. Can’t tell what his hair looks like because it’s hidden under a black beanie. Makes sense considering it’s a bit chilly today, but that doesn’t make me feel any less uneasy.

_Why won’t he turn?_ I start pulling the gun out of my purse. _Better safe than sorry_.

“Cindy, wait”, a grave voice calls out to me. A sound so familiar, I almost release my gun. He slowly removes both hands, revealing them to be fair, from his pockets and holds them up, palms open. “I mean no harm, promise”.

I’m trying to put the pieces together in my head. _Who is this person?_ After a few moments, I realize I haven’t said anything yet: “Turn around. Slowly”.

My grip on the handle gets tighter as a pair of unfamiliar brown eyes meet mine. He holds them in place for a few long seconds, neither willing to break away first. I can feel a second bead of sweat rolling down my face. I see him move his eyes down toward my hands, one hidden in my purse in a not-so-subtle way. Realization hits him and he furrows his brow, worry clearly showing. _I don’t care, he is a stranger_. He’d better hope this isn’t some kind of sick joke.

“Who are you?”

His eyes meet mine again, this time I decide to get a better look. Fair skin, slightly bigger than average head, chiseled jawline, 5 o’clock shadow, slightest hint of bags under his eyes – about the only thing we seem to have in common. What strikes me the most now is his expression. All signs of worry are gone, like he didn’t just see I'm ready to shoot him if he tries anything funny. Maybe he’s decided I won’t be able to do it – a poor judgement. Whatever the case, he slowly lowers his hands, palms still open, toward his head. I don’t hesitate to pull the gun out completely and point it right at his skull. His eyes still tranquil, he grabs his beanie and slowly pulls it out, reveling short, messy brown hair. He looks at me, his face expecting me to react to that. I have nothing to say.

After a few seconds, my curiosity gets the better of me and I break the silence.

“I don’t-“

“It’s me, Cind”, he interrupts and an all-knowing smirk appears on his face. It almost reminds me of-

A numbness starts creeping itself over my body like a snake. I’m struggling to process what is even going on.

_This man, he says he’s…_

I try to open my mouth, but no words come out. It seems I can’t make a retort. I usually pride myself in my ability to never let someone one-up me, be it at court or at any other difficult situation. I always have a response ready, and a cool head. Time has made me a stronger person. And yet…

I force myself to leave this line of thought and look to my outstretched hands. They are shaking.

_You need to get it together, Cinthia!_ My resolve increases. I grit my teeth and I cock the gun’s lever, all the while leering at him with as much intensity as I can.

“Listen here, you _sick fuck_ ”. His face contorts back to a look of worry, his eyes not once leaving mine. “I don’t know what sort of game you’re playing, but if you know what’s good for you, you will-”

“Cind, it’s me” he pleads again, those unfamiliar eyes wide. A nostalgia washes over me.

I wasn’t having it. The fact that he’s using my old nickname makes it worse. “One… more word out of your mouth”.

He remains silent for a second. His eyes start darting from side to side, considering his next choice of words. A realization suddenly appears. “I wasn’t born here!” He suddenly shouts “I moved to Retroville in 2002. We were neighbors! My dog’s name was Goddard. My best friends were Carl, Sheen, Libby and you!”

“Stop!” This bastard is testing me. I quickly shut down the waves of memories those names threaten to bring out. “Those things are common knowledge to everyone who knows about him!”. My vision is starting to get foggy.

“We started a relationship soon after 5th grade”, he continues, softly now. “I kissed you after that whole news anchor situation with Libby” his smile returns. “I’d liked you even before then. Cind, please-!”

I don’t know what came over me. As soon as I heard that, I dropped the gun and flew straight at him. I tackled him to the ground, grabbing his left arm and pressing it against his head, then swiftly holding both together with my right. I put my weight on him to complete the grapple. I had him pinned, my chokehold clean. I purposely made it as painful as I could, and felt satisfaction at hearing him struggle to breathe.

He is slurring his words now, I hold him with enough pressure to give him a hard time, but not enough to knock him out. It’s my turn to talk.

“You’re that damn clone! Why did you come back? How do you know all these things? Have you been spying on us this whole time, you bastard?!”

“Y-you-you…”. I can’t see his face from this angle. If he continues to struggle, he’ll faint from lack of oxygen.

I release a little pressure so he can speak clearer. There was no way he could escape. I move my eyes to look at his wrists. No watch. Good.

“You have a…” I can feel my arm becoming wet. He was crying. “You have a mole… underneath your left breast”.

He took a long and raspy breath of air as I let go of the chokehold. I lost all strength. For the second time today, my body goes limp and I can only struggle to process what was just said. I don’t fight as he grabs me and pulls me into him. I don’t care if this is a trap anymore, I don’t resist as he puts his arm around me and his hand on my head.

Instead of the feeling of breathlessness I expected, I only feel his hand run up and down the back of my head, caressing me.

What he just said. There is no way in hell anyone would now that. Not unless he actually was…

My arms slowly go around him as I return the hug. I cried all the tears I had been able to hold back so far – not just for today, but the last 5 years. I don’t know how long we are like this.

“J-Jimmy…” is all I am able to muster. _How can it be really him?_

“I’m so sorry, Cind”.

“B-but… you…”.

I must be dreaming. It’s been a while since I had one of these. I allowed the memories to return to me. Memories of us holding each other in peace, letting out all our pent-up energy from a day spent fighting each other over such silly things. It almost felt like we were teenagers again, like the last years of our lives hadn’t really happened. I’ll surely wake up soon, as I always did after that - body sweating, face hot and heart still broken.

“But, you’re supposed to be _dead_.”

\---


	2. Cindy II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next chapter. I hope you enjoy! As always, any reviews are appreciated!
> 
> Oh, and I don't own Jimmy Neutron or any of these characters!

_Jimmy Neutron is dead._

I push aside the thought as I lay still in his arms, holding on to him as if he really were a dream – a dream I didn’t want to wake from. Not now. His caresses feel smooth against my head, making me dizzier with each touch. He hasn’t moved an inch either, probably wanting to hold on to this moment as much as I.

He still hasn’t responded to what I said.

_Jimmy Neutron is dead_ , the logical side of my brain warns me again. Can’t it understand I need this? That I need _him_? Dream or not, his delicate strokes, his nostalgic scent, his tears still wet on my head, felt real enough to me.

“Cindy” He broke the silence first.

I look up to meet his eyes. For the first time since he got here, I take my time to really study him. It seems time has roughened him up a bit since I last saw him, his features have definitely hardened. The innocent, goofy, and sometimes careless expression he often wore now replaced by rough lines and a few faded hints of creases on his forehead, forever marking a stoic look. The five o’clock shadow doesn’t help either, making him look at least a few years older than me. _Which is not that bad at all_ , I confess to myself.

His smirk shows me I’ve been staring longingly for too long. I feel my face getting hotter and I look away, only to immediately draw my eyes back to his. The dark shade of brown he’s undoubtably chosen as a disguise doesn’t suit him at all.

_Jimmy Neutron is dead. Dead and buried. You should know, you were there yourself._

I sigh and close my eyes. Of course, I was there when he was buried. We all were! His friends, his parents, his peers. Although seemingly impossible, he is sitting right in front of me. I may want nothing more than to stay in his arms forever and forget all that has happened, but I _have to_ know first. I _have to_ understand. _There must have been a reason for all of this_.

He must have seen my expression because he soon puts his head down and removes his hands, leaving an empty feeling where they had held. He makes no effort to stand, he just looks dejected. With a sigh, I remove myself from him and sit crisscrossed, awaiting the coming conversation. I have so many questions, the hard part is deciding which to ask first.

Finally, I settle on: “What… what happened to you all these years?”

Still looking down, he responds, “What _hasn’t_ happened more like…”

This is not an answer, not even close. I close my fists in frustration. I’m just about ready to put him back on my Triangle choke when he looks at me, seeming to have understood my intention. He lingers a bit before answering.

“Cind, I’ve never been dead. All these years, I’ve been…”, he looks to the side “in hiding”.

That first part was clear, _how else could he be here?_ It’s that second part that bothers me.

“Hiding? From what? Or… who?”

“That’s the thing, I don’t know who! At least… not yet”. I wait for him to elaborate, the passing seconds feeling like hours. _He can’t be serious_. It’s been 5 years. In 5 years, he says he’s been in some kind of trouble and not _once_ did he come for us for help?

After what seemed like forever, it was clear he didn’t want to say anymore. I tighten my fists.

“So this is the best you got, huh? Some lame excuse to make it seem like you didn’t have a choice in leaving us, in breaking us apart. You can’t even elaborate on your own lie! Looks like that big head of yours is smaller now for a reason!”.

My insults don’t seem to have reached him. “I know how you guys must feel, how _you_ must feel. But you have to understand, ever since what happened 5 years ago, I couldn’t face the public, not yet”.

“The _public_?” I don’t believe what I’m hearing. “This was about your public image? Because if so, let me tell you, _nobody_ remembers the name Neutron around these parts anymore! And if they do, it’s _not_ fondly!”

“No! Not that! Are you even listening to me?” He’s fuming now. His face bringing back a flood of memories. “The situation had gotten out of control. What happened at the Summit five years ago was no mistake! It was an elaborate attempt to discredit me completely!”

\---

_The UN World Summit. A once a decade congregation of world leaders to discuss matters of security, development, and human rights. For Jimmy, however, it was more than a bunch of old men discussing the future of the world. It was his once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to show everyone his science is the real deal._

_The government had taken an interest in Jimmy shortly after the whole Yolkian debacle. I’d see cars with black-tinted windows pass by the neighborhood every once in a while, sometimes stopping near his house for a bit before moving on. It wasn’t much of a stretch to assume higher-ups kept an eye on him. My suspicions were confirmed when the Mayor appeared at our school the day a meteor was about to crash on us, looking to a 5 th grader as his only hope._

_It didn’t surprise any of us when he was invited to attend the summit as a speaker, to talk about quantum energy and its uses. It surprised us less when he said he’d use that opportunity to show off his new invention: a quantum matter transporter – able to transport anything to any point in the galaxy in mere seconds. He’d been working on it in secret for a long time._

_What did surprise us was what actually transpired._

_His presentation went perfectly, leaving everyone’s mouth agape as he transported some items he had to the other side of the room before their eyes. Then, a standing ovation when he sent Goddard to space right on top of a military satellite, confirmed when the Secretary of Defense and the Military General both received calls about a “strange unidentified object that came out of nowhere and collided with a government-owned satellite”._

_I remember his face, that of pure elation as his work was finally being recognized. His future now set, he could do whatever he wanted, join any job or program he desired. I was so proud of him. I remember most when my heart skipped a beat as he looked around for someone in the crowd, found me, and gave one of his biggest smiles. I’ll never forget it, like I’ll never forget what happened next._

_The machine started making a strange, whirring noise. Like it was overworking itself. I remember Jimmy looking back at it, confused. I saw that he had already turned it off. Why was it still operating? The noise got louder, Jimmy went desperately to the controls, trying to shut it down – he probably had some kind of emergency off switch. But nothing. People had been staring at him during this, thinking it was part of the presentation. They couldn’t imagine what was actually going on._

_“Everybody! Leave this area!”, Jimmy yelled at them, a pained expression on his face. People started panicking, going over each other as they tried to leave through the small emergency door. He soon started frantically scanning the room again, this time finding me in the same place. I hadn’t moved from where I was._

_“Cindy!”. I only stared at him. “What are you doing? Get out of here!”_

_No way in hell I was leaving without him. I was prepared to fight my way through the crowd and get us out. Then, the machine started making a beeping sound, disaster imminent. A blast of energy came bursting out, spreading itself in three beams. They soon disappeared, and the machine noises along with them. The entire room was silent for a while, looking at where the lights had hit. I broke the silence, screaming Jimmy’s name as I pushed my way through the people in my path, not caring that everyone was staring._

_I found him, next to the machine: face peaceful, eyes closed and lab coat showing only a few burn marks. I fought the coming tears as I put my hand on his chest, and the other on his neck, trying to feel a pulse. The tears came flooding out as I felt the faint thumping. He was fine._

_“Cind…” he opened his eyes, slowly. I’d never been more relieved to see those ocean blues, the most beautiful color I’d ever see. “I’m sorry”._

_“You idiot” was what I managed to say while sobbing uncontrollably on his chest. He put a hand on my head, gently caressing it. I could feel his tears damping my hair._

_“Don’t you ever do that to me again”._

\---

I realize I haven’t said anything. I see him looking to the side, a distant look on his face, as if deep in thought. No doubt the memories of that time getting to him as well.

“I know you must think I’m crazy”, he says without looking at me. “I have too, on many occasions. I’ve questioned myself time and time again. Always wondering if there was a better way. But Cind, you have to believe me…” He gently takes my hand in his, and the touch burns my skin in such a pleasant way.

“There was nothing more I wanted than to forget about everything and come back. Come back to my family, come back to my friends”. He squeezes my hand, his blue eyes piercing my green. “Come back to _you_ ”.

I can’t help but find this a little hard to believe. I feel like there must be more to this story. After all, if he really _did_ want to return-

“Why wait so long? Why not let any of us help you? Why take all that burden yourself? Why make us believe you’re…”. I stop myself as I realize I’m on the verge of tears again. So much for having grown up all this time. Seeing him back has somehow made me feel like a teenager again.

I feel him brushing his thumb on my hand, ever so gently. I can’t bear to look at it in fear I’ll break down again. “I was in a dark place. Cut off from my old life, and everything and everyone I cared about. I felt useless, all that brain power only for show. And most of all, I felt worthless”.

This surprises me. Jimmy Neutron was many things, but _this_ – sad, depressed, _angsty_ – is not one of them. “Why?”

“Worthless for not having been able to foresee what would happen at the summit. Worthless for not being able to do a damn thing to stop it. Worthless for not being able to figure out who did it. And after years started going by, worthless for not being able to pull myself out of my stupor”.

He takes his free hand and places it under my chin, softly pulling me to face him. As I meet those unfamiliar dark hazels, I can almost imagine the ocean blues again, staring deep into my soul.

“Cindy, it wasn’t so much the public I couldn’t return to. I reached a point where I stopped caring if it was dangerous to come back, if I was killed on the street or at home... No, the one I could not bring myself to face, no matter how many nights I spent imagining it… was _you_ ”.

There it is again. He keeps mentioning us, _me_. It’s been bothering me this whole time. He’s been in hiding for 5 years, dead for 3 of them. The first two years he spent locked in his lab, day in and day out. He wouldn’t allow anyone inside. I _tried_. I wanted to put some sense into him, to listen to him, to tell him it’d be okay. But he just shut me out, like everyone else in his life. He must know that I’ve tried to move on these past few years. _God, I tried and tried for so long_. And now here he is, acting like that never happened. Like he didn’t break my heart all those years ago.

I begrudgingly pull my hand away from his. His face instantly drops.

I have to ask, “I don’t understand… _why_?”

“Because I never recovered, Cind. I’m still a broken man. You didn’t deserve a man like that. I didn’t deserve _you_ ”.

Anger starts building inside me again “You don’t get to decide that for me. _I_ decide what I deserve, what I _want_ ”.

He only smirks at my little outburst. He murmurs under his breath, “ _God_ , I missed you”. It cools me off immediately.

We stare at each other for some time now, I don’t know how long. Neither one of us willing to be the one to break away.

“There… there is a reason I asked you to come here. Three reasons, actually”

I eye him curiously, waiting for him to continue. At this point, I’m ready for anything he might say. Whatever it is, it can’t be any crazier than finding out he was alive this whole time.

He takes a deep breath and stretches his hand out, reaching for mine. I don’t protest as the burning sensation returns.

“First, … I’m leaving Retroville. For good”. I feel my heart dropping, but say nothing.

“Second, I want to give you something before I leave”. I open my mouth to retort, but he stops me in my tracks.

“Third” He takes another deep breath. “I couldn’t bring myself to leave without…”.

He stops himself. I’m about to tell him off. Then I realize he’d been getting closer to me as he spoke. His face just inches away from mine. No response escapes my lips. Instead, I concentrate on the tiny freckles on his face, those I’d memorized a long time ago.

“… seeing you again…” His voice deep, I can’t help but feel a familiar wave of electricity go through my body. My lips part involuntarily. _He’s so close now_.

“… and telling you…” I fight every urge in my body to grab him there and then. I’m losing.

“… I still love you”. I’m sure my face is as red as the stripes in his sweatshirt. I truly do feel like a teenager again. Especially when our lips finally meet.

\---


End file.
